Undiscovered Territory
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Converging Winds
It was one arrowhead now. One powerful one rather than several smaller ones of lesser strength. The collected force of seven triads, twenty one warriors were now melded into a single, all encompassing aura of pale blue fire. The sight and feeling of this was an empowering one indeed to Whelk, who flew at the lead of the formation.
A peculiar rush went through his veins, a thrill that he had never before experienced. He had not felt this way even when he had died trying to protect the old planet. Never felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins, superseding his blood. Never experienced the heady rush of impending battle. But something was different in him now, and what had brought it about he was not sure. All that he knew was that he was looking forward to this. Battle was his element, and he was about to enter it with many fellow warriors at his side.
He kept his senses sharply tuned even as the wind whipped his antennae about in his face, never blinking. That sense that he had gotten earlier was all the stronger now than it had been before. Limpet might even have had a point back then of him being overtired; otherwise, he would have felt this more strongly in the past.
Whelk angled his flight through a series of bluffs; he could have just flown over them, but that would not suit the new sensations inside him. The weaving didn't cost any extra time anyway – not at the speed that he was going – and so it was still acceptable in the grand scheme of things.
"Should be less than fifteen minutes ahead," he called over his shoulder. Perhaps a few of the others had picked up on what he was sensing, but it was always a wise move to make certain of something like this. He would need everyone prepared when they finally made their strike on the aliens' base of operations. The battle would no doubt be fierce, and he did not want to risk the lives of any of his people any more than absolutely necessary.
Yet again he weaved through several bluffs, urged on by his senses telling him that they were minutes away from converging upon their target. Excitement pounded against the underside of his skin at the very thought.
Just a few minutes more and it would be time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Basalt stalked down the halls of the ship, his steps more hurried now that he was alone than they had been when his underlings had been present. The sense of urgency in him would not allow him to slow his pace any more even if he wanted to; he was so close to his desire that he could not wait any second more than necessary.
He made the turns unconsciously, heading for Doctor Gneiss' lab rather than her quarters. Near as he could tell on this infernal, nightless planet, it was the middle of the day and she would be at work provided that she still had any subjects left upon which to experiment. For the first time, he did not contemplate what he would usually classify as the insanity of interrupting Doctor Gneiss while she worked. His needs were more important than her studies, and if he were feeling generous, he might give the little brat back to her when he was through. But only if she behaved herself when he arrived for retrieval.
The odds were not really in the doctor's favour. Too bad for her.
At last, he came upon the door to her laboratory, and contemplated the keypad for a few seconds. That woman always came up with the most impossible codes for her doors, so there was no use and no time for guessing, so he did the far better thing and raised his palm to the closed portal and fired a ki blast.
The door exploded inward, flying clear across the room to slam into the wall at the other end. Smoke rose from the half-destroyed door, and several instruments of whatever science they represented had either tumbled off their tables or been shattered by the most unusual projectile. It was quite the mess, and Basalt smirked briefly at this. All the better to wear on the doctor's temper.
At the commotion, the door on one side of the room whooshed open and Doctor Gneiss, complete with infuriated wrinkles around her eyes hurried out. When she caught sight of him, those wrinkles deepened and her lips pulled down into the darkest frown that he had ever seen. It was almost amusing.
"Good day, Doctor."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
That brazen dullard. He dared to do such a thing as destroy her laboratory? Doctor Gneiss had dealt with a lack of respect for much of her life, had tried to make it take a back seat to her work. And most of the time, she did manage this. But now . . . Well, now there was no workspace in which she could apply this method. And he had the nerve to mock her by calling this a good day?
Angrily, she snatched the gloves off her hands, holding them tight in her quivering fist. "No, Commander, I believe that is incorrect. If it were a good day, then my laboratory would not be in ruins at the hand of a thug such as yourself. What is the meaning of this?"
"Audacious as ever, I see," came Basalt's smug reply. His eyes briefly flicked to the corner where her subject currently lay unconscious before turning upon her once again. That stupid superiority complex was evident in his eyes. "I see that you've still got one. I wasn't sure, after I heard that they tried to escape from here. Seems like one of them even succeeded."
Doctor Gneiss fought back a growl and settled for a fiery retort. "Mocking only me for this, Commander?" she spat. "You were the one who took most of the crew out of here for whatever reason and left only the most incompetent here at the ship. I do not have full ownership of the blame in this matter."
Basalt gave her no indication that he'd even heard a single word that she had just uttered. Instead, his eyes went back to the subject in the corner. "It's not dead, is it? Your subjects are known to meet untimely demises. This one had better still be alive, Doctor. I need to borrow it."
Borrow it? Of all the hideously misbegotten nerve . . .
Doctor Gneiss flung her gloves to the floor, and she felt her face contort into an almost painful expression of rage. "You need to borrow it? You've certainly taken leave of your senses, Commander, for if you were still in possession of them you would realize what an utterly stupid thing this is to ask of me." She jabbed a finger at the child. "This is the most intriguing subject that I've had in three rotations, and I will not give it up so that you can satisfy one of your whims. If that is all that you came for, then I suggest you leave immediately."
Basalt narrowed his eyes at her, clearly not intimidated at all. "I asked you a question, Doctor. Is it still alive or not?"
"Yes, it's still alive, Commander," she said icily, drawing herself up straight. If he thought that she was going to bow down to his will, then he was very sadly mistaken. "It is also mine and I am not finished with it. Perhaps I would allow it when I am."
Oh, that got him. Basalt's face twisted into an expression of fury and his voice was almost a hiss. "You allow me? I think that you have confused the rankings yet again, Doctor. I am not one of your technicians; I hold authority here and I will be taking this child."
That was all that she was going to take. "You've no authority over my experiments, Commander. I do what I will." With these words, she strode closer to him, stretching on her toes to glare at him straight in the face. "Any and all test subjects are under my jurisdiction, and anything done to them is at my discretion only –"
These were the last words she got out before she felt a searing hole blown clear through her chest.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
The body flew across the laboratory to crash hard into the far wall. A trail of pale bluish blood accompanied the doctor's slow descent to the floor.
Basalt lowered his hand, examining the sight of Doctor Gneiss lying slumped against the far wall with a hole blown through her chest. Well. How about that. He really had killed her one day after all.
"Well, Doctor," he said almost mockingly to the corpse, "at least, by your own admission, your final subject was the most fascinating one that you'd had in some time. I suppose for some people, it's the smaller things that matter in life and death."
He glanced to the side, taking note of a rather bulbous orange creature staring at the seen with eyes that almost seemed ready to fall out of its head. Dressed in a white lab coat much the same as that worn by Doctor Gneiss, it was obvious that it was one of her assistants.
Basalt considered destroying this one as well, but decided against it. The assistant was clearly dumbfounded and not about to do anything. Besides, there wasn't any time to waste, here. He wanted to get down to the use of those Dragonballs.
So, with a nonchalant shrug, he turned once more to go and retrieve the child.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Pumice tapped his foot impatiently. Why the commander had gone back inside this ship, and why he had seemed almost happy about it, he did not know. And in all truth, that was really not much on his mind at the moment despite the interest of the objects sitting before him and the other scouts.
No, his mind was thinking about what a cursed planet that this was. Since he had been here, he had incurred more failures in a few days than he had in his entire tour of duty. He'd been spotted by a local in one of the villages. He had gotten into a battle with another one of the locals, and had ended up injured for his trouble. And only a short while ago, he had failed to recapture one of the children that had been so easy before. How much further downhill could he go?
Frankly, he was surprised that the commander was willing to let him live after all of this. Not that the commander was in a normal mood right now. Rather, he was in a strange one, and according to some of the other crew members, he had been in it since they'd departed from the ship on the journey to procure these strange artifacts.
Pumice stared down at them, his face a perfect mask of boredom. They were nothing special, just oversized orange balls with as few as one to as many as seven red stars floating within them. Nobody seemed to know quite why they had been dispatched to collect these, but they were good soldiers who followed the orders of their commander without question. It was only proper. Besides, if the commander – who was not a fanciful man by any account – thought that these were important, then who were they to question?
Still, Pumice just wanted this whole sorry mission over with. He had suffered too much embarrassment here and would welcome giving a complete scouting report to a squadron of warriors. Let this planet be reduced to a lifeless husk for all he cared. Sure would teach this world for subjecting him to humiliation like that.
What was taking the commander so long in there anyway? Couldn't he find what he was looking for, whatever that was? Pumice had half a mind to –
"Sir! Look there, above us!" one of the others said harshly, voice kept low. Pumice gave the man an annoyed look before taking this advice. The last thing that he needed was something to bother him right now. He was quite bothered enough as it was.
But a jolt went through him at the sight that met his eyes. Not directly above, but not far off was a large grouping of the native species. For a moment, Pumice wondered how they had gotten here without being detected sooner, but cursed under his breath as he reached up to his scouter. He hadn't thought to turn it on again after he had gotten out of the regeneration tank. Another embarrassment to add to his collection.
Various sets of numbers scrolled across the scouter's eyepiece, and Pumice frowned at what they showed him. These were not the normal natives of this planet, who while not entirely weak were not exactly impressive either. No, these easily had the power level of warriors. How they had managed to track down the ship was a mystery to him, but it was not something that he could worry about at the moment. He had to deal with the task at hand, and he looked to be the only one willing to take charge. Perhaps he could redeem himself this way.
"Stand down," he ordered calmly. All of the others turned to look at him, but even those superior in rank to him showed no signs of wanting to command. He had a willing audience. "It would be pure stupidity to start a fight this close to the ship. They don't know we're here, remember? Don't engage them in combat unless they do it first."
There were a few unhappy rumblings among the crew, probably from those with a bit of warrior training. No crew could be without those, but Pumice did wish sometimes that they had the permission or the inclination to enter the infantry; they tended to get antsy for battle just like actual soldiers.
It was just better this way. Pumice turned his gaze back to the sky, levelling it upon the grouping of natives. He found himself wondering just how long things would remain at this standstill.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Whelk halted in the sky, all of his fellow warriors doing the same behind him, save for Limpet and Chiton, who took his flanks. To outward appearances they were the proper triad, ready to have each other's backs in battle. The only difference was that two of them couldn't stand each other and made no secret of it. But they were all fighters and if they could not put these things aside then that would be truly a disgrace.
"It's right around here, I'm sure," he almost whispered, slowly casting his eyes about. They still saw nothing but a flat open plain with small lakes dotting the landscape. To test his theory, he sent out his other senses, tasting the air for ki . . .
There. Strangely wavering, the ki signatures were nonetheless present. And there were a lot of them, which was both an encouraging and unencouraging sign. Encouraging because a high number of ki signatures left little doubt that this was a base of some sort. Unencouraging because he and his fellow warriors were greatly outnumbered.
But no one had ever said that being a warrior was easy.
"Are you sure that it's this place?" Limpet asked. "I'm afraid that I still don't see anything."
Whelk was about to reply to this, but a chuckle and a voice that was habitually just above a whisper beat him to the punch.
"You really must learn to look with other things save your eyes," Chiton said smoothly. A strange smirk – as all of his smirks ever were – crossed his lips. "There is indeed something here, and many unpleasant someones."
It was quite the amazing day, Whelk reflected, when he and Chiton actually agreed upon something. "We won't get anything accomplished if we just spend the whole day hovering here. It's about time that we went down to investigate."
Limpet tilted his head. "I don't know about this. Many someones you say? Probably not a good idea to go barging in full force then."
Whelk conceded the rare bit of good strategy on the part of his friend. Who knew what they might be flying into down there? Perhaps it would be best to –
This was just an all around bad day to be a leader.
Before anyone could stop him, Limpet sent a bolt of ki toward where Whelk had sensed the multiple ki signatures. Though the move was a reckless, stupid one it actually did one little bit of good – it showed that this truly must be the aliens' base.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
An explosion rocked the ship, throwing Basalt off balance and sending the child tumbling from his shoulder. He regained his feet quickly, head darting about in a search for the source of the disturbance. The smell of smoke and burned metal wafted into his nostrils, but he could not see the source of either of them, nor determine from what direction they travelled.
On impulse, he flicked on his scouter and his eyes widened at the readings scrolling across its pale yellow screen. Over a dozen of them, most not enough to give him much trouble, but together they could well easily take him down. And there was another one there, one that was high enough to give him pause, and his lip curled into a dark sneer. That had to be the one that had nearly bested him back at that excuse for a village.
He swore under his breath, his eyes briefly flickering down to the almost forgotten wound which that Namek had given him. The Dragonballs. That's what those overgrown bipedal slugs must be after, and they were sitting out in the open. Oh true, they were under the cloaking shield, but that obviously was not doing any good anymore. And while he had not left the artifacts unattended, who was to say that they could not be destroyed were they in the vicinity of a large scale battle?
Fingering a few more buttons on the scouter's earpiece with one hand, he hefted the still unconscious child with the other. "Anyone who picks this up: cease your battle as soon as possible and get the artifacts to safety. Use your scouters to follow my lead."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Converging Winds
It was one arrowhead now. One powerful one rather than several smaller ones of lesser strength. The collected force of seven triads, twenty one warriors were now melded into a single, all encompassing aura of pale blue fire. The sight and feeling of this was an empowering one indeed to Whelk, who flew at the lead of the formation.
A peculiar rush went through his veins, a thrill that he had never before experienced. He had not felt this way even when he had died trying to protect the old planet. Never felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins, superseding his blood. Never experienced the heady rush of impending battle. But something was different in him now, and what had brought it about he was not sure. All that he knew was that he was looking forward to this. Battle was his element, and he was about to enter it with many fellow warriors at his side.
He kept his senses sharply tuned even as the wind whipped his antennae about in his face, never blinking. That sense that he had gotten earlier was all the stronger now than it had been before. Limpet might even have had a point back then of him being overtired; otherwise, he would have felt this more strongly in the past.
Whelk angled his flight through a series of bluffs; he could have just flown over them, but that would not suit the new sensations inside him. The weaving didn't cost any extra time anyway – not at the speed that he was going – and so it was still acceptable in the grand scheme of things.
"Should be less than fifteen minutes ahead," he called over his shoulder. Perhaps a few of the others had picked up on what he was sensing, but it was always a wise move to make certain of something like this. He would need everyone prepared when they finally made their strike on the aliens' base of operations. The battle would no doubt be fierce, and he did not want to risk the lives of any of his people any more than absolutely necessary.
Yet again he weaved through several bluffs, urged on by his senses telling him that they were minutes away from converging upon their target. Excitement pounded against the underside of his skin at the very thought.
Just a few minutes more and it would be time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Basalt stalked down the halls of the ship, his steps more hurried now that he was alone than they had been when his underlings had been present. The sense of urgency in him would not allow him to slow his pace any more even if he wanted to; he was so close to his desire that he could not wait any second more than necessary.
He made the turns unconsciously, heading for Doctor Gneiss' lab rather than her quarters. Near as he could tell on this infernal, nightless planet, it was the middle of the day and she would be at work provided that she still had any subjects left upon which to experiment. For the first time, he did not contemplate what he would usually classify as the insanity of interrupting Doctor Gneiss while she worked. His needs were more important than her studies, and if he were feeling generous, he might give the little brat back to her when he was through. But only if she behaved herself when he arrived for retrieval.
The odds were not really in the doctor's favour. Too bad for her.
At last, he came upon the door to her laboratory, and contemplated the keypad for a few seconds. That woman always came up with the most impossible codes for her doors, so there was no use and no time for guessing, so he did the far better thing and raised his palm to the closed portal and fired a ki blast.
The door exploded inward, flying clear across the room to slam into the wall at the other end. Smoke rose from the half-destroyed door, and several instruments of whatever science they represented had either tumbled off their tables or been shattered by the most unusual projectile. It was quite the mess, and Basalt smirked briefly at this. All the better to wear on the doctor's temper.
At the commotion, the door on one side of the room whooshed open and Doctor Gneiss, complete with infuriated wrinkles around her eyes hurried out. When she caught sight of him, those wrinkles deepened and her lips pulled down into the darkest frown that he had ever seen. It was almost amusing.
"Good day, Doctor."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
That brazen dullard. He dared to do such a thing as destroy her laboratory? Doctor Gneiss had dealt with a lack of respect for much of her life, had tried to make it take a back seat to her work. And most of the time, she did manage this. But now . . . Well, now there was no workspace in which she could apply this method. And he had the nerve to mock her by calling this a good day?
Angrily, she snatched the gloves off her hands, holding them tight in her quivering fist. "No, Commander, I believe that is incorrect. If it were a good day, then my laboratory would not be in ruins at the hand of a thug such as yourself. What is the meaning of this?"
"Audacious as ever, I see," came Basalt's smug reply. His eyes briefly flicked to the corner where her subject currently lay unconscious before turning upon her once again. That stupid superiority complex was evident in his eyes. "I see that you've still got one. I wasn't sure, after I heard that they tried to escape from here. Seems like one of them even succeeded."
Doctor Gneiss fought back a growl and settled for a fiery retort. "Mocking only me for this, Commander?" she spat. "You were the one who took most of the crew out of here for whatever reason and left only the most incompetent here at the ship. I do not have full ownership of the blame in this matter."
Basalt gave her no indication that he'd even heard a single word that she had just uttered. Instead, his eyes went back to the subject in the corner. "It's not dead, is it? Your subjects are known to meet untimely demises. This one had better still be alive, Doctor. I need to borrow it."
Borrow it? Of all the hideously misbegotten nerve . . .
Doctor Gneiss flung her gloves to the floor, and she felt her face contort into an almost painful expression of rage. "You need to borrow it? You've certainly taken leave of your senses, Commander, for if you were still in possession of them you would realize what an utterly stupid thing this is to ask of me." She jabbed a finger at the child. "This is the most intriguing subject that I've had in three rotations, and I will not give it up so that you can satisfy one of your whims. If that is all that you came for, then I suggest you leave immediately."
Basalt narrowed his eyes at her, clearly not intimidated at all. "I asked you a question, Doctor. Is it still alive or not?"
"Yes, it's still alive, Commander," she said icily, drawing herself up straight. If he thought that she was going to bow down to his will, then he was very sadly mistaken. "It is also mine and I am not finished with it. Perhaps I would allow it when I am."
Oh, that got him. Basalt's face twisted into an expression of fury and his voice was almost a hiss. "You allow me? I think that you have confused the rankings yet again, Doctor. I am not one of your technicians; I hold authority here and I will be taking this child."
That was all that she was going to take. "You've no authority over my experiments, Commander. I do what I will." With these words, she strode closer to him, stretching on her toes to glare at him straight in the face. "Any and all test subjects are under my jurisdiction, and anything done to them is at my discretion only –"
These were the last words she got out before she felt a searing hole blown clear through her chest.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
The body flew across the laboratory to crash hard into the far wall. A trail of pale bluish blood accompanied the doctor's slow descent to the floor.
Basalt lowered his hand, examining the sight of Doctor Gneiss lying slumped against the far wall with a hole blown through her chest. Well. How about that. He really had killed her one day after all.
"Well, Doctor," he said almost mockingly to the corpse, "at least, by your own admission, your final subject was the most fascinating one that you'd had in some time. I suppose for some people, it's the smaller things that matter in life and death."
He glanced to the side, taking note of a rather bulbous orange creature staring at the seen with eyes that almost seemed ready to fall out of its head. Dressed in a white lab coat much the same as that worn by Doctor Gneiss, it was obvious that it was one of her assistants.
Basalt considered destroying this one as well, but decided against it. The assistant was clearly dumbfounded and not about to do anything. Besides, there wasn't any time to waste, here. He wanted to get down to the use of those Dragonballs.
So, with a nonchalant shrug, he turned once more to go and retrieve the child.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Pumice tapped his foot impatiently. Why the commander had gone back inside this ship, and why he had seemed almost happy about it, he did not know. And in all truth, that was really not much on his mind at the moment despite the interest of the objects sitting before him and the other scouts.
No, his mind was thinking about what a cursed planet that this was. Since he had been here, he had incurred more failures in a few days than he had in his entire tour of duty. He'd been spotted by a local in one of the villages. He had gotten into a battle with another one of the locals, and had ended up injured for his trouble. And only a short while ago, he had failed to recapture one of the children that had been so easy before. How much further downhill could he go?
Frankly, he was surprised that the commander was willing to let him live after all of this. Not that the commander was in a normal mood right now. Rather, he was in a strange one, and according to some of the other crew members, he had been in it since they'd departed from the ship on the journey to procure these strange artifacts.
Pumice stared down at them, his face a perfect mask of boredom. They were nothing special, just oversized orange balls with as few as one to as many as seven red stars floating within them. Nobody seemed to know quite why they had been dispatched to collect these, but they were good soldiers who followed the orders of their commander without question. It was only proper. Besides, if the commander – who was not a fanciful man by any account – thought that these were important, then who were they to question?
Still, Pumice just wanted this whole sorry mission over with. He had suffered too much embarrassment here and would welcome giving a complete scouting report to a squadron of warriors. Let this planet be reduced to a lifeless husk for all he cared. Sure would teach this world for subjecting him to humiliation like that.
What was taking the commander so long in there anyway? Couldn't he find what he was looking for, whatever that was? Pumice had half a mind to –
"Sir! Look there, above us!" one of the others said harshly, voice kept low. Pumice gave the man an annoyed look before taking this advice. The last thing that he needed was something to bother him right now. He was quite bothered enough as it was.
But a jolt went through him at the sight that met his eyes. Not directly above, but not far off was a large grouping of the native species. For a moment, Pumice wondered how they had gotten here without being detected sooner, but cursed under his breath as he reached up to his scouter. He hadn't thought to turn it on again after he had gotten out of the regeneration tank. Another embarrassment to add to his collection.
Various sets of numbers scrolled across the scouter's eyepiece, and Pumice frowned at what they showed him. These were not the normal natives of this planet, who while not entirely weak were not exactly impressive either. No, these easily had the power level of warriors. How they had managed to track down the ship was a mystery to him, but it was not something that he could worry about at the moment. He had to deal with the task at hand, and he looked to be the only one willing to take charge. Perhaps he could redeem himself this way.
"Stand down," he ordered calmly. All of the others turned to look at him, but even those superior in rank to him showed no signs of wanting to command. He had a willing audience. "It would be pure stupidity to start a fight this close to the ship. They don't know we're here, remember? Don't engage them in combat unless they do it first."
There were a few unhappy rumblings among the crew, probably from those with a bit of warrior training. No crew could be without those, but Pumice did wish sometimes that they had the permission or the inclination to enter the infantry; they tended to get antsy for battle just like actual soldiers.
It was just better this way. Pumice turned his gaze back to the sky, levelling it upon the grouping of natives. He found himself wondering just how long things would remain at this standstill.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Whelk halted in the sky, all of his fellow warriors doing the same behind him, save for Limpet and Chiton, who took his flanks. To outward appearances they were the proper triad, ready to have each other's backs in battle. The only difference was that two of them couldn't stand each other and made no secret of it. But they were all fighters and if they could not put these things aside then that would be truly a disgrace.
"It's right around here, I'm sure," he almost whispered, slowly casting his eyes about. They still saw nothing but a flat open plain with small lakes dotting the landscape. To test his theory, he sent out his other senses, tasting the air for ki . . .
There. Strangely wavering, the ki signatures were nonetheless present. And there were a lot of them, which was both an encouraging and unencouraging sign. Encouraging because a high number of ki signatures left little doubt that this was a base of some sort. Unencouraging because he and his fellow warriors were greatly outnumbered.
But no one had ever said that being a warrior was easy.
"Are you sure that it's this place?" Limpet asked. "I'm afraid that I still don't see anything."
Whelk was about to reply to this, but a chuckle and a voice that was habitually just above a whisper beat him to the punch.
"You really must learn to look with other things save your eyes," Chiton said smoothly. A strange smirk – as all of his smirks ever were – crossed his lips. "There is indeed something here, and many unpleasant someones."
It was quite the amazing day, Whelk reflected, when he and Chiton actually agreed upon something. "We won't get anything accomplished if we just spend the whole day hovering here. It's about time that we went down to investigate."
Limpet tilted his head. "I don't know about this. Many someones you say? Probably not a good idea to go barging in full force then."
Whelk conceded the rare bit of good strategy on the part of his friend. Who knew what they might be flying into down there? Perhaps it would be best to –
This was just an all around bad day to be a leader.
Before anyone could stop him, Limpet sent a bolt of ki toward where Whelk had sensed the multiple ki signatures. Though the move was a reckless, stupid one it actually did one little bit of good – it showed that this truly must be the aliens' base.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
An explosion rocked the ship, throwing Basalt off balance and sending the child tumbling from his shoulder. He regained his feet quickly, head darting about in a search for the source of the disturbance. The smell of smoke and burned metal wafted into his nostrils, but he could not see the source of either of them, nor determine from what direction they travelled.
On impulse, he flicked on his scouter and his eyes widened at the readings scrolling across its pale yellow screen. Over a dozen of them, most not enough to give him much trouble, but together they could well easily take him down. And there was another one there, one that was high enough to give him pause, and his lip curled into a dark sneer. That had to be the one that had nearly bested him back at that excuse for a village.
He swore under his breath, his eyes briefly flickering down to the almost forgotten wound which that Namek had given him. The Dragonballs. That's what those overgrown bipedal slugs must be after, and they were sitting out in the open. Oh true, they were under the cloaking shield, but that obviously was not doing any good anymore. And while he had not left the artifacts unattended, who was to say that they could not be destroyed were they in the vicinity of a large scale battle?
Fingering a few more buttons on the scouter's earpiece with one hand, he hefted the still unconscious child with the other. "Anyone who picks this up: cease your battle as soon as possible and get the artifacts to safety. Use your scouters to follow my lead."